Legends and Life - 2. Chapter 2

Rabbie woke feeling rested an hour later. His hand slowly slid down to rest on his dirk as he looked around; he could feel eyes on him but couldn’t see any living thing other than Duible standing quietly in the shade under a nearby tree. He rose gracefully to his feet, still watchful as he gathered up his fish. Placing them in a sack he kept tucked into the saddlebags, he grabbed one last drink from the clear cool water of the tarn before mounting up and riding for home.

Wee Fearghus was waiting for him when he came in from the stables. "Your faither wants to see ye," he informed Rabbie, "he said to tell ye he'd be in his study."

Rabbie nodded, hiding a wince at the strammash he knew to be coming. "Take these to Janet for me will ye laddie? Perhaps the cook can make up a hearty fish stew for supper." He handed over the rough sack with the trout to the boy and gave him a nudge toward the kitchens, "I dinna need a guide; I know the way to my faither's study verra weel."

Fearghus gave him a shy smile before trotting off holding the sack with both hands while Rabbie turned the other direction and went inside the castle proper at a much slower pace. He made his way through the narrow halls and up three flights of stairs to his father's small study. The talks they had there were rarely good and Rabbie wasn't looking forward to this one. He knocked on the heavy wood door and waited for his father to call him in.

There was a few moments pause before he heard, "Aye, come in."

"Ye wanted to see me Faither?" Rabbie asked, closing the door behind him. He was desperately trying to hold to the peace he found by the water but one glance inside the small room sumptuously appointed with cushioned chairs and a large wood desk in front of the small fireplace showed his mother sitting to one side of the warm flames.

"Mam." The ill feeling in his stomach grew. If she was there this was it; his faither's orders would be passed down and Rabbie knew how it would go.

"Rabbie. Ye were gone awhile," Maggie said mildly.

"Aye, I was fishing."

John folded his lips and spread his glare between his wife and his son. "We are no here to discuss fishing. Ye overstepped the bounds of civilized behavior this morn and ye ken it weel. Your sisters were at that table and your actions were no gentlemanly."

Rabbie resisted the urge to hang his head, "Aye, I do ken that. I had nae call being so bawdy in front o' them.” Rabbie met his father’s glare with one of his own. “But you’re a fine one to talk, Faither. Ye may not hae been so blunt but ye were asking if I were off tupping some lassie, sure as I breathe. It was only when ye heard that wasna the case ye acted as if I've committed some crime by no wanting to take a wife."

"You’re my son and my heir!" John slammed his fist down on his desk, "one day ye will be the Campbell, laird in my place. Ye need sons to take up after ye; legitimate ones. Ye must wed and I've been patient for these past years while ye growed. Ye havena found a wife on your own and ye avoid the lassies your Mam introduces ye to. It's been time enough. Ye will be wed on Bealltain for the good of the clan."

Rabbie mouth dropped open. "That's no but nine months from now!"

"I've spoken to the McKinney of Whitehall and he has a daughter not yet bethrothed. She is 16 and has two older sisters that have born bairns so she comes from good stock. I sent a messenger after ye stormed out this morn with a contract and it will be done. When it comes back ye will sign it and on Bealltain ye will stand before the priest and say your vows like a son of mine should." John was implacable, voice hard as a stone as he watched the rebellion spread across his son's face.

Rabbie turned to his mother in appeal. "Mam!"

"Your faither has given you every chance, Rabbie. Ye must face your duty and be a man." That must have been hard for her to say, Rabbie could see her clenched hands in her lap; after all, his parents’ marriage had been arranged. It was only by her insistence that her children were given some chance to make a match for affection instead of simply cold duty but as heir Rabbie had squandered the time she had managed to buy for him.

The sick feeling in Rabbie's stomach settled in then began spreading through his limbs. He felt cold and tired; his hands ached where he had gripped the arms of his chair to keep from bolting from the room in panic. He punched down and smothered his anger and anxiety and stiffened his spine. All emotion drained from his face and he stared at his parents coldly. "Might I be told the name of the lass I'm to wed?"

"Mary McKinney. A bonny lass or so I've heard. A bit sharp-tongued by reputation but biddable enough."

Maggie nodded in agreement. "I met her Mam as a lass afore I wed your faither. A guid woman, I expect any daughter of hers to be of proper class to be a laird's wife."

"As ye have informed me of the path my life will take have ye anything else to add or may I go?" Rabbie asked in a hard voice. He was screaming inside with the need to escape. His shoulders were held stiff and his hands were clenched into tight fists he made sure to keep hidden in the folds of his kilt.

"Aye, ye may go. But nae far. Ye will attend supper and apologize to your sisters for your language this morn."

"Fine." Rabbie surged out of his chair and stalked out of the small room. It was almost a run but not quite. He couldna leave the grounds but he had to get out of the castle proper. He went to the kailyard and walked around the cabbages and other garden plants. Through it all he tried to breathe through the emotions that threatened to swamp him. What was he going to do?

    ***

The next few weeks were occupied with bringing in the rest of the harvest and Rabbie had no chance to escape from the stern watch of his father or the slightly more sympathetic gaze of his mother. Iain took the chance to rib him about his marriage and wedding night to come, something which had brought the brothers to blows more than once. Dougal, the smart one, stayed away from both of them when they exchanged heated words.

The messenger returned with the signed betrothal contract and under the threatening hover of his father Rabbie signed the parchment, feeling as if the weight on his shoulders doubled the second he picked up the quill and dipped it into the brown ink. His parents sent out the banns and plans for games and a feast to celebrate began. Stores would have to be set aside through the winter in order to do the occasion justice but they had surplus.

It was just days before the Samhainn feast and Rabbie's father was giving him greater freedom now that he had signed his life away. He was restless and itching to get away from the castle and all the wistful congratulations from the women and bawdy comments from the men. Once again being called to his father's study he found himself given just that opportunity.

"I need ye to go east along the loch to Tigh na Cailleach and replace the stones and seal up the sheiling before Samhainn. I've sent Rupert to do it in past years but as ye have no liking for feasts and as you’re betrothed it would nae be fitting for ye to consort with the lassies."

The rains had begun to come and the ground was hard and cold with frost each morning but that would hardly deter Rabbie. What did bother him was the superstitious nature of the errand. "We hae a priest in the village and attend the Christian god but ye still honor the gods and goddesses o' the old way?"

"Some say his face is simply another face of the god. We must go along with the king's edicts. He ended the open homage of the old ones but this is not something to be taken lightly. The entire loch has been fruitful and prosperous since the tradition began and I shall not be the laird known for breaking it. Even if these are modern times and it is superstitious claptrap, this is a responsibility I am trusting ye with. You willna argue wi’ me on this. Ye will do as I say."

Rabbie muttered under his breath before nodding his head at black look sent his way. "Aye Faither." He left the study to go gather his supplies and to con some travel food from the cook so he wouldn't have to do any hunting or fishing.

    ***

Somhlth was standing near his horse, stroking him and murmuring softly when Coventina rose out of the water. She wrapped herself in her robe of water before skipping across the grass toward him with a wide smile on her face. "There ye are, Somhlth. I've been looking for ye."

"For me? Why? No' that I'd ever mind a visit from my bonny sister, mind ye." Somhlth picked her up and swung her around, his muscles rippling and the edges of his green and brown kilt swinging. The top of her head barely came to his breastbone. His skin was golden, touched by the sun and the entire wide expanse of his chest was bare despite the cool breeze.

"Do ye no have a shirt then Somhlth, that ye must prance about wi' none on your back?" Coventina flicked one of his nipples and giggled at his roar of protest. He glared at her but a smile tugged at his wide mouth.

"I'm the god of masculine essence. I dinna need a shirt. Were ye looking for me just to devil me then?" He crossed his arms over his chest in case she had the idea to flick him again.

She frowned, her mood changing quickly. "Oh no. I found something. Well someone, not a something, I guess." Coventina's fingers pleated her robe. "A man."

"Oh, a mortal has caught your fancy then? Is he a dark haired horseman or a blond hair, blue eyed charmer?" Somhlth teased.

"Not like that, ye fool." Coventina slapped his arm. "He was asleep. He was catching fish in my favorite tarn and I was watching him. Something about him drew me in and I went to look closer."

"Oh, aye? And ye still insist it wasna about his looks then?" Raising his eyebrows, he smirked at her.

"Somhlth! Would ye stop that and listen ye fool! This is important." Coventina scowled at him as she stamped her foot. "He seemed disturbed and I could sense something, something bad, even before I touched him." Her mood changed suddenly again.

"Not that he wasn't beautiful," she said slyly, "a man with skin pale as milk and hair like fire. He wore more clothes than ye but seemed well formed below them." She touched Somhlth's arm and sent an image into his mind of a young man asleep on a blue and green checkered plaid laid over the soft grass near the edge of the water of her favorite tarn.

Somhlth gave a sound of appreciation at the image she sent of his face relaxed and peaceful, at least at first. Then she shifted the image and shared with him the feelings and impressions she received when she touched his forehead as his nightmares stirred. The sensation of foreboding and impending doom hovered over the man made Somhlth frown. He wasn't marked by any god or goddess but he was clearly an important mortal, especially if his aura could coax shy Coventina out of her pool.

"Could ye tell if the danger is present, past, or future?" One of Coventina's powers was sensing the flow of time, like the flow of water, as it moved back and forth. It was telling the when of what she sensed that was sometimes impossible.

She nodded. "Aye, this time it was pretty clear the danger was in the future. The danger was coming fast as weel. That was a few days ago. It could be here already."

"Days? Did ye no think this was important? If I can sense the man's destiny upon him so strongly from just your memory ye must have felt it even more." He frowned at her, annoyed with her flighty nature.

"It's no my fault but your own. Ye are no at the Gatherings often. I couldna find ye that easy until you broke the surface o' the water today."

"Weel ye know why I avoid the gathering of our family at this time o' year. Brighde is fading and the time o' Cailleach is coming fast. Do ye really expect me to believe ye came straight to me once ye sensed where I was anyhow?"

Coventina blushed and then frowned at him. “If ye would no provoke Mam she wouldna harp so much on ye. Ye bring it on yourself.” She pulled her robe closer to her body and shivered. “Now what are ye going to do about the mortal? Ye sensed what I did and ye know how important this is.”

"That's your opinion on Cailleach. I'd just as soon as avoid her altogether, thank ye." Somhlth moved over to his horse, Cochlan, and stroked his neck before bending to check his legs. He was a mortal animal but smarter than most; being completely loyal to Somhlth he enjoyed a greater health and lifespan than the rest of his four legged brethren.

"I think 'tis time for a ride, my friend." Somhlth ran his hand along Cochlan’s proudly arching neck under his mane. The long brown hair felt coarse as he wrapped a chunk around his hand and swung his leg over the horse’s wide back.

"Have ye sensed this man near any water in the last day or so?" Somhlth asked.

Coventina' shook her head. "Nay. I've not seen him since the afternoon I first noticed him. He seemed quite at home with the land. Ye have a bond with the earth. If he has slept on its surface ye should be able to find him. Ye must find him. You’re important to his future, I can sense it."

"I shall have to find a circle to meditate and search. Thanks, my sister. Peace be with ye."

    ***

Somhlth rode eastward toward a circle of stones deep in the heather. It was far from where any man wandered and the small stone circle was only knee high in a ring not much wider than the width of his outstretched arms. Yet the size mattered not. With the power of the land was concentrated in this spot, lines radiating outward to stretch under the highlands in every direction he would be able to find the mortal. He stepped inside and stood silently, sinking his consciousness deep into the earth. Somhlth connected with deep power slumbering under the leagues of rock and soil before spinning in a circle slowly, stopping to face each direction squarely and extend his consciousness along the lines.

Facing east, south, and west he stood silent and strong for long minutes as the frustration mounted. He could not sense the man he saw in Coventina's vision and he took a deep breath before moving to face north. The coming time iof the conflict n the memory was hazy but he had a sense of time running out and a curious pull to locate the man quickly. He began to search the north, sinking deeper into his trance as he raced along the lines of power; feeling the fizzle in his chest as he traced each path, no matter how thin.

His perseverance was rewarded when he got a soft echo of the aura he remembered so vividly. It was virile male, angry. It was stunning how much anger surrounded him. Somhlth raced back to his body, pulling his senses back until his eyes snapped open. He would have to be fast. The man was far to the north, a ride that would have taken weeks with a regular horse. Cochlan was no regular horse but they would need all the energy the earth could spare. Still standing in the circle he nickered to his mount.

Somhlth laid his hands between Cochlan's eyes under his fetlock. He could feel the energy of the earth pulsing though it was buried deep in respect to the coming cold season. He drew that energy from deep within like a well until it spilled up into him and out through his hands into his horse. An aura of power surrounded the pair as they stood together, vitality filling their bodies. Finally Somhlth broke the connection and dropped his hands to his side as he sent the power back into the earth to complete the circle. Cochlan raised his head and neighed as he pranced with vigor. Reveling in the buzz of the power suffusing his body, he let out a neigh that echoed through the crags and forests for miles around.

"Come, Cochlan, let us go. We have miles to travel before we are where we are most needed." Somhlth jumped and landed across his back and brushed his heels lightly against Cochlan's sides. They sped off at a smooth gallop that ate up the leagues.

    ***

Rabbie was swaying in the hard saddle as his horse walked through the tall grasses. He was alone with the silence and sounds of the land surrounding him but it wasn’t as calming as it usually was. It was raining of course, but he ignored the drizzle as he resettled his plaid to prevent a trickle of cold water from running down the neck under his sark.

"Stupid, pointless task,” he mumbled. He shifted the reins to his left hand, tucking his right inside his plaid to warm it. He shook his head, humoring his father was a very uncomfortable job but at least it got him out of the castle.

Rabbie had been sent to study in the Edinburgh. The confines and the sheer number of people in one place had been nearly enough to drive him crazy but it had also opened his eyes. The Highlands could be a place of austere beauty with the crags and fields of heather and bracken. Around the lochs the hills were green and welcoming and the Lowlands had been settled much more extensively than the Highlands. But the Lowlanders were a soft people. They were not a far cry from the Sassenachs.

But getting away from the small villages of Fortingall and seeing the cosmopolitan attitudes of the lowland city dwellers had exposed Rabbie to more than the average man of his home. He was a staunch Catholic like the rest of his family; but where they held to some of the old ways he held to more modern views. The average Highlander saw sidhe and attributed natural events to otherworldly actions of sprites, spirits and gods on a nearly daily basis. Robbie had seen more of the world and no longer believed in the old legends.

Even so, Rabbie had no choice but to indulge his father's whim and go to Tigh na Cailleach. The old legend was that Cailleach and her family; The Bodach, her husband, and her children had been caught out in bad weather in Loch Lyon. Sheltered by the reverent Highlanders in a house during the storm she had bestowed a blessing on the land and the people. As long as they returned to the sheiling each spring on Bealltain and brought out the stones that represented her family to watch over them the land would be productive and the harvest plentiful. Herds of her animal to protect, the shy deer, made Loch Lyon their home and fell frequently to the hunts of his clan.

Rabbie snorted, the animals were there because the land was rich and the grass tender. Surrounded by the high hills the land was protected from the worst of the savage weather of winter and the snow was never too deep. With a lot of burns and tarns the water kept the land green in the heat of summer. Those elements all combined to ensure the land was rich and full of life, not some silly lumps of rock. His father had ordered him to perform the ritual at Samhainn which was the reverse of the ritual at Bealltainn. He had to place all thirteen stones back in the sheiling and cut grass turves to make the small house weather tight.

It was a ridiculous superstition but his father’s word was law. So now he was on horseback with supplies for a few days ride and then a short stay at the sheiling. It would take at least a day to cut the turves needed and move the stones. He would miss the excitement at the village as the last of the harvest was stored and the ceremonial fires were lit but he wasn't really feeling thankful. As he rode his mind was absorbed with the thoughts of the coming winter; it was not nearly long enough for his comfort. The notion of a lass being readied to become his wife was enough to nauseate him as panic filled his belly. He wasn't ready.

As the sun sank below the horizon and the gloaming fell, Rabbie finally arrived at the sheiling. He dismounted heavily, muscles stiff from his day in the saddle, and tied Duible's reins around a handy bush. It wasn't strong enough to hold him should he be startled but it was enough to keep him from wandering off as Rabbie set up camp. Gathering some rocks lying about, Rabbie made a pile then cut a thick turve of grass and set it aside. Ringing the now bare soil with the waiting rocks he piled some bracken inside the pit and lit the fire with some tinder he carried in his saddlebags to keep it dry.

Using the brush on either side of a clear space as supports, he set up a tent to keep the rain off his head as he slept. His feet would be toward the fire and the smoke would keep the wildlife away. Wrestling a larger stone over by the fire, Rabbie sat down. He pulled some bread and cheese out of his saddlebag and made a thick sandwich. Placing it on one of the stones in the ring nearest the fire he waited as the cheese melted and the bread warmed. The mouthwatering aroma of the hot food filled the air making his stomach growl. He was hungry after a day in the saddle and he bit into his food before it cooled fully, scorching his mouth on the melted cheese.

"Damn ye, stupid bugger," Rabbie cursed himself. The sound of his voice as it broke the quiet of the night was loud and awkward. He sighed as he finished his meal, knowing this would be the last chance before winter fell to enjoy the quiet without people pressing on his peace. Pulling a smooth bottle out of his saddle bag, he washed down his meal some ale he'd purloined from the kitchens as well. Belching, he brushed crumbs from his lap and stood up. Morning would be long in coming leaving plenty of time to brood in his bedroll. Banking the fire, Rabbie pulled off his leather shoes and curled up under his blanket with his saddlebags for a pillow.

    ***

Samhainn was fast approaching. Somhlth could almost feel the breath of winter that would blow across the land as his mother rose to power and brought with her the chill of the cold season. She would travel the land with her herds of deer for a time as they grew fat enough to withstand the freezing storms. The gods and goddesses would pay her tribute as she passed through the land. Reverence for the oldest of them all was easy. She brooked nothing less but what she felt was her due. As the Goddess of winter she was not warm by any means. Punishment for any slight was swift and inevitably painful.

Somhlth was not a big fan of his mother. He was brash and often hasty which led his tongue into trouble as he spoke more than he aught. Having felt the sting of his mother's punishment all too often he avoided her as much as possible. He had strong bonds to the Earth; he was a protector with ties to all things male, human and animal. Her powers were vital to the land and he owed her his obedience but it galled him. He simply preferred to stay away so she could not order him about. As a god he was his own master; at least as long as she didn’t catch him.

Somhlth continued riding through the night. He paused only briefly to allow Cochlan to drink from one of the many sources of water. Knowing what ley line the man was on allowed for him to be able to sense him without the stone circle. He was traveling steadily in one direction and that made it easy to track. A few hours after dawn, Somhlth pulled Cochlan to a stop to allow him to rest and graze. There was a castle none too distant where he could see people moving about in the fields surrounding it. The main bulk of the harvest was always done by Samhainn but there was still so much keeping them busy it seemed. Humans were always bustling around, busy with this or that until they got too old and too slow to bustle anymore.

Somhlth worried little about one of them coming upon him unexpectedly but he was nervous the closer he got to the man he was tracking. Needing to burn off some of the energy still buzzing through him from the earth, he pulled his sword out of a magically hidden scabbard at his side and began to fight an invisible opponent. He focused on the movement of the blade as he flowed from one stance to another, imagining that he was surrounded by threats. His muscles bunched and straightened in a stunning display of grace and strength. For an hour he danced around the small field as he trampled the old grass. Mud splashed across his legs when he sparred with his invisible opponents in the wet soil near the edge of a field.

He moved in his solitary dance of death until the sense of a human nearing broke in on him. He could feel the strong masculine energy of this one and a sense of mirth and sly wit. Not wishing to startle the man Somhlth called forth a soft linen shirt with green knot work along the collar to cover his naked chest. Using glamour he hid his guise to appear an ordinary man, dimming his godhood in case the one who came was a sensitive. Sliding his sword away it was again hidden. Somhlth strode over to Cochlan and mounted just as the man stepped out of the bushes.

"Well met traveler," the young man said in a pleasant tone. His mouth smiled but his eyes watched Somhlth cautiously. This time was full of danger for humans and the unwary often found themselves at the mercy of someone who might mean them ill. Highland custom was one of watchful hospitality full of rules for both the guest and host. Somhlth had often disguised himself and interacted with the humans. They fascinated him and made him yearn for things he did not understand. The men were rough and often crude but he found himself searching for something or someone among them. He wasn't exactly sure of what he was looking for but he kept searching nonetheless.

"Greetings."

"My name is Iain, son of John Campbell of Meggernie Castle. Do ye have need of hospitality, sir?"

"Nae, though I thank ye for the offering. My name is Somhlth. Would that I could spare the time to visit your fair castle but I am but passing through and intend to be on my way from your lands." Somhlth sat in the saddle in a comfortable slouch with no weapons visible. His clothes and horse were fine to look upon. The lad still felt cautious but his posture eased at the obvious lack of threat. Somhlth hid his sigh of relief.

"Where are ye traveling to if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"I travel east from here."

"Along Loch Lyon then. 'Tis Campbell land that way for a goodly distance." The mortal felt wary again. Something about that direction made him nervous. Somhlth frowned; he had no idea what he said wrong.

"Ye would be more than welcome to come greet my faither and spend a night indoors out o' the chill of the coming night. Tomorrow is Samhainn and a good day it is among the Campbell clan and the villagers of Fortingall.”

"Never fear, your people are safe from the likes of me." Somhlth used his powers over male energy to soothe and lull the man into a sense of trust. He needed to be on his way and his own anxiety was growing worse the longer he stayed still without sparring or traveling. "Thank ye for your offer. If I find my way back along this route I will be sure to look in and offer my greeting to your laird." Somhlth pushed a bit more on the mortal’s mind.

Iain blinked and spoke absently, "Aye weel, ye will be missing a good Samhainn feast if ye don't break now. But if ye have to go ye have to. Safe travels."

Somhlth nodded. "Thank ye." He clicked his tongue and touched his heels to Cochlan's flanks, riding off at a steady trot that would seem normal to the human. He sighed as he rode; he could feel a touch of the man's aura he tracked touching Iain as well. They had to be brothers. He could still remember vividly the strong yet beautiful face of the man he was chasing from Coventina’s vision; this Iain had the same nose and chin though his hair was a pale version of the fire of the other man's wavy locks. Once out of sight Somhlth flicked the reins urging Cochlan to greater speed. They broke into a gallop and flew across the uneven land and up and down the hills along the burn.

Time was running short.